


But Ours

by glasvegi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Brokeback Mountain AU, M/M, Sheep, conveniently stops to avoid sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasvegi/pseuds/glasvegi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's something gnawing at the both of them, something burning between their eyes but they try to stamp it out with their boots, drown it in whiskey, wash it off in the cold river water."</p>
<p>An AU where Bertolt and Reiner are working up on Brokeback Mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Based heavily on the film Brokeback Mountain. And by heavily, I mean most of the dialogue is taken word for word from the film. 
> 
> This was another case of "if no one else has written this then I guess I have to".

They do most things in silence. That's how it is for the first day, then the next, then a week has passed and all that's been said between them has come out of Reiner's mouth. Nothing of consequence- just about the weather, the camp, how he doesn't like being made to sleep out with the sheep against the rules on Erwin's orders.

Bertolt doesn't say anything back. He's nervous all the time and Reiner can see it, so he doesn't take any offense at the silence.

Sometimes, rarely Reiner catches him smiling. Those are always good days.

 

The week goes on and they do less things in silence. Meals have sporadic bursts of conversation. Bertolt says over breakfast that him and Annie'll be getting married when the summer's over.

Reiner doesn't like the way that makes something in him drop.

Bertolt comes back from picking up food hours after he left, says the horses got spooked by a bear, lost most of the food. There's a cut running deep in his forehead. Reiner wets a rag and wipes away dried blood from Bertolt's skin.

 

 

 

Two weeks in, Reiner tells Bertolt he's sick of sleeping out in the pup tent with the sheep. “We both oughta be in this camp,” he says.

Bertolt says he'll sleep out there instead.

There's something gnawing at the both of them, something burning between their eyes but they try to stamp it out with their boots, drown it in whiskey, wash it off in the cold river water.

 

They start talking. About where they come from, mostly. Bertolt tells him about his parents dying and his siblings taking care of him, and how he come to work here after ranch jobs. When he stops talking the silence he leaves is one they've been surrounded with before, but it wasn't the same.

Reiner takes a gulp of whiskey from the bottle, says “That's more words'n you spoke in the last two weeks.”

Bertolt laughs. “Hell, that's more'n I spoke in a year.”

 

After the week's up, they're moving up the mountain with the flock for new grazing land.

They've emptied a bottle when Reiner starts singing hymns about being saved and thanking the Lord off the side of the mountain, loudly and poorly. He sits back down next to Bertolt, smiles at him.

“My folks, they believed in all that. The Pentecost.”

“What is that, really? My folks, they was Methodist.”

“I guess...” Reiner runs a hand through his hair. “I don't know. All the good folks go off to Heaven and folks like you and me march off to Hell.”

Bertolt looks away. “You may be a sinner, but I ain't yet had the opportunity.”

Reiner doesn't ask him anything like what he wants to.

 

 

 

Bertolt's spent every night and day with the sheep since he offered. But tonight it's Bertolt who's throwing the empty bottle to the ground. He tries to crawl off to his horse to head back to the sheep. Reiner tells him to stay, offers him space in the tent.

Bertolt takes a sleeping roll and lays down out by the fire.

When it burns down in the middle of the night the cold's down in his bones and his teeth are chattering and lungs pushing out sounds he can't stop.

Reiner sticks his head out of the tent. “Bertolt. Quit your yammering and get in here.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. He stumbles in to the tent; the whiskey isn't running through his legs anymore but the cold air is and Reiner's keeping the tent so warm.

 

They lay down. Reiner reaches over, grabs Bertolt's hand in his own. Then he drags it down the front of his body and Bertolt sits up, jerks his hand away and Reiner is grabbing at his jacket, holding him close as he starts taking off his clothes. when he unbuckles his belt, Bertolt's fingers are reaching out, pulling down his underwear and then they're gone, fumbling with his own belt and jeans.

Bertolt doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't think about what he's doing, just spits into his palm, runs it along his erection and Reiner's entrance and then pushes in slowly. He pushes in as Reiner grunts and he waits a long while before moving.

After Bertolt shoots his load, he falls on Reiner's back. He thinks “sinners like you and me.”

 

In the morning, coyotes got a sheep. Bertolt stands over the body, knows it because of what he did. What Reiner did.

He doesn't speak to him again for a long while. He shoots the coyote, mounts its tail as a warning.

 

 

 

Reiner's sitting near the fire. Bertolt sits down, won't face him. He forces the words out of his throat and they're low and a lie.

“It was a one shot thing we got going on here.”

“Ain't nobody's business but ours.” Reiner's not looking at him either, eyes on his boots, wringing his hands.

“You know I ain't queer.”

“Me either.”

 

The sun's hanging low enough that Bertolt needs to head out to the sheep. Reiner's lying down in the tent, hands behind his head, without a shirt. Bertolt walks over, steps in. He crouches down as Reiner sits up, fingers running along the lines of his face.

Reiner kisses him, but Bertolt's thinking and that's dangerous, to be thinking about this. He's pulled down, head resting on Reiner's chest. He tilts his head up and Reiner rolls around 'til he's on top of Bertolt, and this time he's not thinking about anything but Reiner's weight pressed against him, the smell of him, the way his lips move on his own. He lets himself get lost in it.

 

By the time he's out on the mountain, he's setting up the pup tent by moonlight. He doesn't mind.

 

 

 

Bertolt thinks he can feel someone watching as him and Reiner fall on top of each other, laughing and languishing in their touches. He figures it's God, and if he's looking down on them for sinning, well. It's nobody's goddamn business but theirs.

 

 


End file.
